


A Day With Rosie

by sandwastesinthevoidofmychest



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Affection, Cute Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Relationship, Hints of background drama, M/M, Married mystrade, Not Beta Read, What-If, greg and myc being fabulous uncles, halloween drawing, he does the best voices, i guess, mycroft reading to rosie, spending the day with rosie, talk of children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 01:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest/pseuds/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest
Summary: An unexpected phone call brightens both Mycroft and Greg's day.





	A Day With Rosie

**Author's Note:**

> Slight disclaimer: I have probably minus 100 on experience with kids, and have never written a child before so...yeah.
> 
> This came about after I went to starbucks for refuge after a particularly horrific group meeting and saw something v cute and immediately thought about it in a Mystrade context.  
> As I said, if Mystrade get me through this masters, so be it.

Greg awakes to the sound of his phone buzzing across the nightstand. He searches for it blindly, before answering. 

“Greg Lestrade?” He murmurs, knowing that whoever it is will be completely aware that they have just woken him up. 

“Hey Greg, did I wake you?” John Watson’s voice carries across the line.

Greg snorts, managing to open his eyes, “‘Course not, sure I sound like this all the time.” He glances at his side, seeing the empty spot on the bed and feels a little sad. He glances at the clock and sees it’s half nine, Mycroft must be gone for at least an hour or more. 

“Look, I know you’re on holiday…”

Greg can’t help but sigh, “But?” He remembers Mycroft suggesting that he leaves London for a few days, but Greg had refused to go on holiday without Mycroft. 

The compromise was that they’d go to Paris over the weekend. 

“Could you take Rosie today?” John asks hopefully. 

Greg smiled slightly, “Sure, mate. All okay?” 

“Uh, lets just say that Sherlock has an experiment planned and it’s too dangerous for a three year old to be around.” 

Greg sits up in bed, “Say no more. Do you want me to swing by to pick her up?” 

Greg is pretty sure he can hear a glass break in the background, followed by Rosie’s shrill laughter. “Uh-“ John murmurs, “Is it okay if I drop her over?”

“Yeah that’s fine, and John?”

“Yeah?” John replies distractedly.

“Is this experiment something I need to know about?” 

John lets out what sounds like a forced laugh, “Not at all. Completely legal.” 

Greg closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “That really eases my mind.” He says sarcastically.

“We’ll be there in about fifteen.” 

Greg moves to get out of bed, “That’s fine, has she eaten?” 

“She had some breakfast about half an hour ago.” 

“Okay, good to know. I’ll see you both soon then.” 

“Great thanks Greg, you’re a saviour.” Just before the line goes dead, Greg hears Rosie’s voice scream “GregGreg!” and his heart almost melts. 

 

Greg has managed to shower and eat some toast by the time the doorbell rings. He puts down his coffee and goes to open the door. He’s barely opened the door for a second before a small human wraps her arms tightly around his leg. 

“GregGreg! Hi!” 

Greg can’t help but smile, as he bends down and picks her up in his arms, she pokes his face giggling slightly. He hasn’t seen her in weeks, and he laughs. 

“Hey there.” He murmurs, still grinning at her. 

“Thanks for this Greg.” John says from the front step. He has a school bag full of supplies to keep her amused. 

Greg doesn’t mention the pile of children’s books both him and Mycroft have seemed to amass since she started visiting them regularly. 

Greg shakes his head, “Honestly, John. It’s no problem. Haven’t seen this little munchkin in far too long. It’ll be great to spend the day with her.” 

“Glad to have her in safe hands.” John holds up the bag, “Some things to keep her amused.”

Rosie is staring intently at John, and John brushes her hair from her eyes, “Dada will be back later, sweetie. You get to spend the day with uncle Greg.” 

Rosie nods, and waves at John “Bye!”

Greg can’t help but laugh a little, “Well she’s eager to get rid of you.” 

John moves in to press a kiss to her forehead, “See you both later. Just call if you need anything.” 

“Will do, see you.” 

Greg stands with Rosie in his arms, waving as John disappears down the garden. 

Greg brings Rosie inside and lets her down onto the floor, picking up the bag John had left. 

Rosie looks around the large hallway, before glancing back at Greg confusion across her face. “Uncle My?” She whispers. 

“At work, love.” He brushes his hand through her hair. 

She frowns, “Lunch?” 

Greg chuckles, “I’ll ring him then, shall I?” 

She can only smile up at him, crooked teeth sparkling, and Greg is pretty sure that he’ll remember that smile even when she is a cranky teenager. He knows for a fact Mycroft has a picture on his phone of that smile. Greg sits down on the hall tiles, and Rosie comes over to sit in his lap as he gets out his phone. 

 

She presses her finger to her lips, “Shush, surprise.” She says seriously, and Greg grins at her, nodding. “Surprise, of course darlin'.” 

She leans in close to him, listening to the sound of the dial tone. 

“Gregory?” 

Rosie takes a sharp inhale when she hears Mycroft’s voice, and Greg barely represses a laugh. 

“Hey Myc, how are you?” 

“Better now.” Mycroft murmurs, and Greg can hear the smile in Mycroft’s voice and feels his heart skip a beat. 

“Well, I was wondering would you like to meet for lunch in that little cafe around the corner from your office?” 

Rosie’s eyes sparkle with mischievousness as she listens in. 

Greg winks at her, causing her to put her hand up to her mouth trying not to laugh. 

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Got a little surprise for you too.” Greg adds in, and Rosie actually giggles. 

There’s a short pause and then, “Oh I can’t imagine what that would be.” Mycroft’s voice is filled with amusement. 

Rosie leans into the phone, “Uncle My!” 

Greg can hear Mycroft chuckle, “Rosie dearest, how’s my girl?” 

“I miss you.” She says quietly, and Greg just holds her close. 

“I’ve missed you too, dearest.” Mycroft says softly, “But I will be seeing you in a little while.” 

“Promise?” She asks eagerly, glancing up at Greg, Greg can only nod in affirmation. 

“Pinky swear.” Mycroft replies, voice completely serious. It’s Greg’s turn to chuckle now. 

“Yay!” 

“Gregory?” 

Greg puts the phone to his ear, “Yes love?” 

“How does an early lunch sound? Say…” Mycroft pauses, “half an hour?” 

“Wonderful, Myc.” 

“I’ll send the car over, traffic is abysmal today, parking worse. I’ll meet you both there.” 

Greg smiles, “We’ll see you then, love.” Greg holds out his phone for Rosie, “Say goodbye to uncle My.” 

Rosie giggles, “Bye My!” She shouts, laughing at the rhyme. 

“See you in a little while, dearest.” Mycroft says as he hangs up. 

 

Rosie turns around in Greg’s arms, looking at him inquisitively. It’s something she does often that reminds Greg of Sherlock. 

“Uncle My?”

Greg pats her head, “We’re going to visit him now.” 

She grins at him again, her eyes dancing with excitement. “Can he read to me?” 

Greg is slightly taken off guard, “Of course, do you want to pick out a book?” 

Rosie nods, moving to stand up and walk towards one of the living rooms, knowing that that’s where Greg and Mycroft keep her books. 

Greg gets up with a little difficulty and follows her. 

Rosie goes to the cabinet in the corner and opens it, standing with her arms crossed, staring at the spines of the books. 

Greg leans against the door frame, doting over her.

Is this what Sherlock and Mycroft were like as children? 

Greg doesn’t know anything about John’s childhood to know whether he was an avid reader as a child. But he did know that Mycroft had consumed books, still does when he had the time. 

Some of Greg’s favourite nights were when they would both lie beside each other on the sofa in front of the fire, each of them reading. 

“What were you thinking of, Rosie?” Greg asks as she continues to stare. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he checks it; Mycroft’s driver is outside waiting for them. 

She gestures for him to come forward and he kneels down beside her, “This one.” She murmurs, pointing at a spine in the middle of pile of books. 

“The Jolly Postman?” Greg asks, and when she nods, he pulls the book out and hands it to her. 

“Thank you GregGreg.” She says, clutching the book to her chest. 

“You’re very welcome darlin’, now do you want to come see uncle My?” 

“Yes!” She shouts and she pulls on Greg’s arm for him to stand up again.

“Lets go then, we’ll just get our coats.” 

 

On the way to the cafe, Rosie sits beside Greg, her fingers tracing the people on the front of the book. 

She looks up at him with intelligent eyes and smiles. “Uncle My does the voices better than Papa or Dada.” She explains, answering Greg’s unspoken question. 

He glances at her in surprise, and she giggles. 

Somehow, Greg expects that this will continue to happen as she grows. 

He feels a small sense of pride at her confession; he’ll need to tell Mycroft that tonight. 

“Of course he does.” Greg grins, “Uncle My is a little bit magic, but that’s our secret, alright?” He winks at her and her face lights up. 

“Can he do spells?” She asks, attention firmly on Greg. 

Greg chuckles, “Of course.” 

Rosie shakes her head, “Secret?” 

“Very secret.” 

When the car stops, Greg glances out the window and sees the cafe. “We’re here darlin’.” 

Greg moves to unbuckle her seatbelt, and the driver opens the door for them. Greg lifts Rosie into his arms, thanks the driver and walks towards the cafe. 

“Is uncle My here?” Rosie whispers excitedly. 

Greg steps into the small cafe and glances around, smile faltering slightly. “Not just yet.” 

He brings her over to the counter. “Hot chocolate?” 

She grins at him, the crooked toothed smile and Greg wonders how he hasn’t melted yet. He’s pretty certain he’d do anything for the child. “Please!” 

“Hey Greg.” Lucy, the barista greets him. 

She knows both him and Mycroft from them coming in regularly, but she has never seen Rosie. “And who’s this little beauty?” She asks curiously. 

“Rosie Watson-Holmes.” She announces proudly.

Lucy seems taken aback at Rosie’s forwardness. She raises a brow, “Watson?” 

Greg catches onto her train of thought and shakes his head. “She’s not ours. She’s Sherlock and John’s daughter.” 

“Ah!” The curiosity is gone from her face, “What would you like Rosie?” 

“Hot chocolate please.” Rosie says quietly, slightly shyer. 

“A very small one.” Greg mouths and Lucy nods in understanding. 

“And Greg?” 

Rosie turns her head to look at him expectantly. 

“An americano, ta.” He smiles at Rosie, “Let’s go sit down and wait for uncle My.”

 

Rosie had picked out the sofa and armchair nestled in the corner facing the door. She was sitting glued to Greg’s side, humming quietly as she watched people come and go. 

“Here are your drinks.” Lucy announces as she arrives with Greg’s large mug and the smallest mug for Rosie. “Even gave you some marshmallows young lady.” She says grinning.

Rosie smiles up at her, “Thank you.” 

“And so polite!” 

Greg nods, “She’s the best, aren’t you darlin’?” 

Rosie nods enthusiastically and Lucy laughs. “Gosh, Greg. You would make a wonderful father.” 

Greg’s smile falters and Lucy seems to notice, “Oh…I’m sorry-“ The bell over the door jingles and the three of them look over, and Rosie screams. 

Glad for the distraction, Greg can’t help but smile as his husband walks in the door, immaculate and as handsome as ever. 

Before he knows it, Rosie has left his side and is running across the small space to Mycroft. 

“Uncle My!” She shouts excitedly, causing some other customers to glance around at them. 

Greg smiles adoringly as Mycroft bends down to hug Rosie, talking quietly to her as she holds onto his hands. When Mycroft gets up, he picks Rosie up too. 

Mycroft carries her across the cafe, unaware of the people staring. Rosie is grinning from ear to ear, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Hello love.” Greg murmurs, standing up to place a chaste kiss on Mycroft’s lips. 

Mycroft smiles back, eyes crinkling. “Good afternoon, my love.” 

Mycroft sits down beside Greg, and Rosie refuses to leave his lap, still holding onto his suit sleeve as though she’s afraid he’ll disappear. 

“Busy?” Greg asks, leaning forward to pick up his coffee. 

Mycroft hums, shrugging. “I’ve decided to take the afternoon off.” 

Rosie glances up at him, “For me?”

Mycroft chuckles, placing a kiss on top her head, “Obviously.” 

“Papa says that word a lot.” 

Greg snorts into his coffee at Mycroft’s look of dismay at being compared to Sherlock. 

 

“You guys look like a right little family there.” Lucy’s voice interrupts them and Greg frowns and glances at Mycroft, who is clearly acting as though he hasn’t heard her. 

“Uncle GregGreg and Uncle My.” Rosie announces, as though that explains everything. 

Lucy catches Greg’s frown and quickly goes to take out her notebook. “Lunch is it?”

“Ham and cheese sarnie, please. Myc?” He asks, catching Mycroft’s eye. 

Usually Mycroft will get the soup, but Greg can tell that Rosie will not be going anywhere soon, and so soup may not protect the suit. 

“I’ll just have the same also.” He murmurs, “And a latte, please. And Rosie? What would you like to eat?” He asks. 

“Jam! and toast!” She says excitedly. 

Greg and Mycroft glance at each other and smile. 

“Whatever you want, dearest.” Mycroft says grinning. 

“I’ll get them ready then!” Lucy says before disappearing. 

Mycroft glances at the small space between himself and Greg, tilting his head to look at the book. 

“The Jolly Postman?” He asks, lip twitching in amusement. 

“Specially picked out by Rosie herself.” 

“Can you read it to me?” She asks, her voice quieter, as though she’s trying to tell a secret. 

“Of course I will, dearest.” 

Greg hands Mycroft the book and sits back as Mycroft begins to read. 

Greg holds his mug close, watching in silence as Mycroft begins to read. He feels unparalleled fondness and love run through him as he hears Mycroft adapt a voice for Goldilocks, and Rosie giggles. She stares in awe at the book as Mycroft makes his way through it, adopting a different voice each page. 

 

“Here’s your food.” Lucy whispers, trying not to interrupt Mycroft, but she glances at him in surprise when she hears him read. 

Greg nods in thanks, hoping she’ll leave. 

It’s rare that they get to spend a lot of time with Rosie lately, and Greg feels somewhat selfishly that he doesn’t want them to be interrupted. 

When Mycroft glances across at him, Greg can see that he feels the same way too. 

“Your toast will get cold, Dearest.” Mycroft murmurs, closing the book. 

Rosie frowns but nods in understanding. 

“Come sit between us, darlin’” Greg murmurs, patting the space between him and Mycroft.

Rosie scoots off Mycroft’s lap and sits between them, “Here you go.” Greg says as he places her small plate of toast on her knees. 

“Thank you.” She murmurs, picking up a slice. 

Greg meets Mycroft’s eye, and he smiles fondly, Mycroft smiles at him and it’s so beautiful and proud that it very nearly takes Greg’s breath away. 

 

They go to the playground after their lunch. Each of them on either side of Rosie as they hold her hands. 

When they get home, Mycroft changes from his suit into something more comfortable. By the time he gets back into the living room, Greg and Rosie are already sitting on the large sofa. 

Between them there’s a sketch pad and a bunch of pencils and gel pens. 

“What’s going on here?” Mycroft asks, amused.

“Spooky.” Rosie mumbles, tongue between her teeth. Mycroft raises an eyebrow at Greg who grins, “Halloween is coming up. Rosie wanted to draw ghosts and other ‘spooky’ stuff.” 

Mycroft chuckles, going over to sit beside them both, glancing down at the blobs on the page which were apparently ghosts. “Very spooky indeed.” 

Greg glances across at Mycroft, his eyes soft and open. “Hm, what else could we draw darlin’?” 

“The orange thing!” Greg and Mycroft both laugh, Greg patting Rosie’s head. 

“Pumpkin?” 

“Dada and Papa have one. It has an ugly face.” 

Mycroft bites down on his lip to stop himself from laughing and Rosie looks up at him expectantly. “You draw it.” And when she sees Mycroft raise an eyebrow she giggles, “Please Uncle My.” 

“Uncle My is a great artist.” Greg murmurs, causing Mycroft to blush. 

“Nonsense” He shakes his head, but takes up a pencil. 

“Can I help?” Rosie whispers, eyes wide. 

Mycroft nods, “Put you hand on mine, dearest.” 

Rosie does as she’s told and Greg watches on fondly as they trace out the outline of a pumpkin. 

When Rosie starts giggling at the eyes that they draw, Greg takes his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture. “Guys, look up for a sec.” 

Both Mycroft and Rosie turn their heads and Greg grins as he takes a photo. That’ll be another for the fridge, he thinks. 

 

John doesn’t arrive until well after dinner, Rosie is almost asleep between Greg and Mycroft as Mycroft reads to her. Greg is almost about to text John to let him know that they’d happily take her for the night, probably would be safer anyway. 

When the doorbell rings, Rosie’s head pops up, eyes open wide. “Dada?” 

“Yes.” Mycroft murmurs, watching as Greg gets up to let John in. 

“Sorry it took so long.” John rambles, “Had to clean the flat afterwards, he’s a nightmare.” 

“It’s really not a problem, it’s a pleasure to have her.” 

John follows him into the living room, seeming surprised to see Rosie sitting on Mycroft’s lap, book in hand. She drops the book the second she sees John and holds out her arms to be picked up. “Dada!” She shouts, suddenly filled with energy again. 

John grins, walking over to pick her up. “Hey little one.” 

“I’m not little.” She frowns.

The three of them laugh, and John presses a kiss to her forehead. “Of course not. Time for bed I think.” 

“Papa?” 

John nods, “He’s at home waiting for you.”

Rosie smiles and then yawns as if on queue. 

“Right, we’re off then.” John says, “Say goodbye to uncle Greg and Mycroft.” 

Mycroft stands up then, “Goodbye dearest.” He smiles at her and comes to Greg’s side, leaning in to him slightly. 

“Bye bye!” She smiles tiredly at them both. “Love you uncle My, uncle GregGreg.” 

“We love you too.” Mycroft says softly, a gentle smile on his face. Greg wraps his arm around Mycroft’s waist. “We do.” Greg and Mycroft follow John to the front door. 

“Perhaps let’s not leave it as long the next time.” Mycroft’s voice is quiet, Greg feels him stiffen beside him. John turns his head, clearly surprised. He blushes slightly, averting his eyes. 

“Of course not…Sherlock and I are having a halloween party, uh, would you two like to take her that night?”

Greg glances at Mycroft from the corner of his eye and he sees Mycroft nod, a slight smile on his face. “It would be our pleasure.” 

John nods, “Great, good. Well then, we’ll see you soon then. Thanks.” 

 

 

 

Mycroft pulls the duvet back and slips in beside Greg, who wraps his arms around him, allowing Mycroft to rest his head on his chest. Quiet and intimate. 

"You know what?" Greg asks, voice low. 

"Hm?" Mycroft hums tiredly. 

Greg presses a kiss to the top of Mycroft's head. "Rosie said you do the reading voices better than John and Sherlock." 

"Oh?" Mycroft's surprise is evident, but Greg can hear the smile in his voice. 

"Told her you were magic." 

Mycroft snorts, "Hardly." 

"You cast spells and everything." 

"Really now?" 

"Well you can make people disappear with a click of your fingers." 

"Gregory!" Mycroft exclaims in mock surprise. 

Greg can only laugh, running his fingers through Mycroft's soft hair. 

"A little bit of imagination goes a long way, love." 

Mycroft curls into Greg, draping a leg over Greg’s, an attempt to get even closer. 

"And if you can help it, Rosie will be writing fiction with her brilliant imagination." 

"Busted, cultivating a bestselling author. Damnit." 

Mycroft chuckles and the vibration goes through Greg's chest. 

"I love you." Mycroft whispers, pressing a kiss to Greg's bare skin. 

“I love you too, Myc.” 

They settle into a quietness, breathing together, Greg continuing to run his fingers through Mycroft’s hair, listening to his breathing slow.

 

“Perhaps if we had been younger, or didn’t work as much.” Mycroft murmurs, tiredness clear in his voice. 

Greg’s fingers slow to a stop in Mycroft’s hair, and he hums in agreement. They’ve had this conversation before. 

“If we hadn’t have taken so long to become involved.”

“Mhmm. But we have Rosie.”

Mycroft is silent for a few long seconds, and Greg commences running his fingers through Mycroft’s hair again. 

“When people mistake us for a family…it’s just…”

“Go on, love.”

“I can’t help but wonder if it’s something we’ve missed out on.” 

“Perhaps.”

“Yet, I never saw kids in my future…I grew up before that ever became a valid option for gay couples.” 

“But?” Greg murmurs softly.

Mycroft sighs, hand tracing Greg’s torso. “I enjoy looking after Rosie, it’s fulfilling.”

“I guess.” Greg murmurs, “Although…”  
“Hm?” 

“We get to be the uncles; we didn’t have to deal with a crying baby during the night-god knows we sleep little enough as it is, love.”

Mycroft lets out a quiet chuckle. 

“We only see the good parts of it, if you think about it. Less crying, missing out on sleepless nights, teething, potty training and a whole lot of other things. Y’know?”

“Valid point.” Mycroft murmurs, and Greg can hear the return of the smile in Mycroft’s voice. 

“At the end of the day, we’ve got each other.” 

“That’s all I need. You, Gregory. Always.”

“And I you, love.” Greg presses another kiss to Mycroft’s hair. “Meanwhile, we can just be the favourite uncles who spoil Rosie rotten.” 

Mycroft chuckles, raising his head from Greg’s chest, “Kiss me, Gregory.”

“C’mere, love.” Greg murmurs, running his hand down Mycroft’s back. Mycroft moves so that he’s shifted up Greg’s body, and presses his lips to Greg’s, sinking into his warmth. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [(here)](http://lostallsenseofcontrol.tumblr.com/), and watch as I make personal posts and delete them five minutes later & cry in my tags about Mystrade and the bus driver who looks like Rupert Graves. Yeah, big fun.  
> 


End file.
